


house of metal

by sophthebi



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Blood and Gore, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Halloween AU, Sort Of, Violence, dark millory, dark!Mallory, michael is like michael myers, millory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophthebi/pseuds/sophthebi
Summary: Every year since her family had moved from New Orleans, every Halloween, she’d dream of the house. Of inside it. The dark corners and looming stairs. The pending catastrophe. Whatever was inside it.It was within her now.





	house of metal

**Author's Note:**

> hey!!  
This is sort of a Halloween AU but not... like I started it with the idea of it being very Michael Myers and slasher like, but it changed as I wrote hahaha  
The title is a nod to the song that inspired this, "house of metal" by Chelsea Wolfe.

Murder House.

That’s what the locals called it. 

The house across the road.

Stone built of nightmares and tragedy. Its conical roofs somehow taller when Mallory thought of it that way. A pending catastrophe, one that had already occurred, a long time ago. 

She tried her hardest to steer clear of it, frightened by the stories told by the neighbourhood children. But she couldn’t escape it, having to pass it nearly every day. It had eyes. She felt it watching her as she walked to and from school. It was as if at any moment, the door would open and something terrible would wander out from inside. It’d trail her, it’d follow her to home.

She didn’t want whatever was inside it.

“We should do something for Halloween. Haunted house maybe?” Her friends wanted a fright, adrenaline for this years Halloween. Mallory smiled and nodded along to their spraying of ideas. She smiled and faked excitement. She wouldn’t do whatever they planned, she’d stay home and stare from her window. Stare at the house across the road. Her very own haunted house.

Every year since her family had moved from New Orleans, every Halloween, she’d dream of the house. Of inside it. The dark corners and looming stairs. The pending catastrophe. Whatever was inside it. She’d see the ancient residents wandering the rooms like ghosts. Perhaps they were ghosts. She’d always been sensitive. As a little girl, she would see things no one else did. Grandmother told her it was a special gift, her special gift that no one else could know… 

She could see what left the earth. Memories, but never her own. 

“Are you okay?” Mallory asked the stranger who stood outside the house, staring into its pale and sickly windows. They didn’t look at her. All Mallory could see was their long, brown hair. 

Mallory moved, slowly, afraid to startle. 

The stranger was young. Maybe her age. Pretty, but sad. Her fists clenched and hanging from the bright orange sweater. The girl stared without blinking; tears close to falling. 

Mallory knew then what she was seeing under the streetlights. 

And then she remembered never leaving her house. Never waking up and walking outside into the darkness of midnight. No trick or treaters. No lights on inside the rows of houses. 

Mallory held herself, hugged into her body, bear and vulnerable in her nightgown. “You live there, don’t you?”

The girl turned to her. 

Mallory gasped, but quickly swallowed any more noise down. 

Wounds, open wounds. Weeping red, everywhere. Gaping and bruised, in her neck, on her chest. Blood stained her clothes. 

Violet … 

Her younger brother had snuck into her room one Halloween night, stabbed her to death. Over fifty stab wounds, that’s what was reported back then. That’s what Mallory had found in the library. 

Violet cried, quietly whimpering, begging. Mallory closed her arms around the girl. Holding her close, until blood and tears stained her body too. “He’s back. He came back. I couldn’t stay in there. There’s so much darkness.” 

The house stood over them like a shadowy creature, alive and watching. The eyes waiting for its prey. Mallory latched onto Violet, terrified to move, terrified to breathe. 

She froze, unmoving until the cold presence of the girl let go of the hug, and grasped Mallory’s hand. Pulling her. Taking her further into the darkness. “You can help.”

Mallory was dragged closer and closer to the eyes. The house. 

She didn’t fight. It felt as if she were facing her destiny. Like everything that had brought her to this moment, was purposeful and set in time. A fate she could never erase or run from. 

She stumbled through the door, but continued to follow Violet. 

Just like her dreams, the house was perfectly in shape. Just as it had been that Halloween night. Glittering as a jewel, as if time hadn’t touched it. 

Bodies stared at her, from the dark corners. Their figures, tall and short, watched her follow Violet into what had to be hell.

Gurgling and weak cries for help echoed from upstairs. But Mallory continued her journey. The stairs creaking beneath her feet, but not Violets. 

“Please … please don’t, no-”

The knife sank into their stomach. Intimate. He …. It was him. 

He thrusted it in and out of the woman’s abdomen, holding her close as he violated her body. Eyes blank, but fear forever painted on her face. 

The body dropped to the floor. Mallory reached for Violet only to find she was alone. 

He turned to face her, knife in hand, blood slithering from it in strands of red. She almost couldn’t see him, he resided in the darkness, bathed in it with only the glistening of metal in his hand to see. 

Michael. 

She tried to run, but he was on her before she could make it to the staircase. Gripped in his arms, she kicked her legs and pulled down. But his strength diminished any attempt of escape. 

She screamed until his gloved hand stopped it. Her voice muffled in the leather, blood finding its way into her mouth until she couldn’t help but gag. 

Memories of the house blinded her. Childhood. Pain.

“That boy is evil. There is nothing… nothing in those cold eyes.”

A young, angelic child. Beautifully innocent, blonde curls framing a delicate face. Locked in his room. Broken glass and crosses. Threats of hell and the devil. 

And finally, she could see her memories. 

“There’s something wrong with our daughter. The devil is in her. She needs to be clean. Pure of sin.”

The beatings. The confessions. The screaming for mercy. The defeat of knowing their parents could never love them. So much pain buried within, buried deep.

Michael dropped her as if she were burning iron. His breathing frantic, the mask suffocating him. 

She sobbed out into the cold air of the house, crawling into a dark corner. The sobs didn’t stop. She tried to hold them down, but it made them worse. Erupting in fits of agony. And when they got louder and louder, to the point she thought she’d die to the music of cries, she felt his presence. 

Next to her. Close. Blocking her view of the woman he just killed.

Blue, beautiful eyes swollen with tears. Hair golden, and curling around his face. And she could see the young innocent child still. Older. Stronger. Corrupted and twisted. But still vulnerable. Still afraid. 

His pretty pink lips smiled. 

“You’re just like me…aren’t you.”

She couldn’t find the voice to speak, so instead nodded in silence. 

He watched her closely, a naked hand coming to caress her face. Fingers warm and alive. “Mallory…” He whispered her name, discovering it just through his touch. 

She smiled back at him. 

“Michael.”

“They could never understand what we are.” She knew who “they” were. Who he spoke of. They were shadows now, watching eyes in the walls. “I killed mine.”

His eyes gleamed even in the darkness. Their union creating a light, singular and dim, but warm and loving. He smirked, bringing something to Mallory’s lap.

Her stomach churned, but she didn’t know if it were in disgust, or pleasure. Excitement. Desperation. Rage.

It was the bloodied knife. 

She held it tightly. Looking up at him, seeing all the memories. 

It was within her now. 

She had come face to face with her destiny.

She snuck into her home. Light-footed and fae-like. 

She opened their bedroom door, where inside they lay peacefully asleep. 

Mallory smiled down at them, remembering what Michael had done.


End file.
